


there are things you can't change

by seijoh



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ALL THIS IS PORTRAYED IN A NEGATIVE LIGHT BY THE WAY, ANYWAY IM REALLY MAD AND THIS IS ME PROJECTING, Fictional Akuma, Gen, Homophobic Language, LIKE DONT THINK IM SUPPORTING THIS BS, Non-Graphic Violence, Racist Language, Sexist Language, Trans Adrien Agreste, Trans Character, its not that long but im really fucking angry, minimal romance, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijoh/pseuds/seijoh
Summary: marinette thought of nino’s grandmother, who wore a hijab with a bright smile that crinkled the ends of her eyes and preferred to arabic over french. she thought of alya’s mother, who had worked to get out of martinique and made a life for herself in paris while supporting five children alone. she thought of adrien, how he used to be she, and the tears of joy that had run down his face when his father had paid for the surgery. and she thought of her mother, who’d left china for a better life and found it in paris.“the lucky charm heals because the akumatized aren’t inherently bad people,” tikki had said once. “they’re just making bad choices.”   or, a bad person gets akumatized.





	

**Author's Note:**

> please, _please_ make sure you read the triggers in the tags. there is some language in here that isn't exactly safe for everyone, and this was a fic i wrote when i wasn't exactly in the safest state of mind. it was me projecting my anger and feelings on certain topics onto these characters, putting them in scenarios that certainly won't happen in canon. but _please_ be sure to read the triggers, because i don't want anyone to get triggered from reading this.

Surprisingly, Chloé had nothing to do with the akuma that appeared at lunchtime. Though, Marinette thought, it would have been much easier if she had.

“I am  _ le Patriote _ ,” he boomed, voice carrying through the narrow streets of Paris. “I will return France to its former glory.”

She didn’t think anything of it then, and it was instinct to slip into an alley for a hidden place to transform. While it is Marinette who had stepped in, Ladybug was the one who’d left. Chat Noir was already flying over a rooftop towards the crash. With a smile on her face, she threw her yo-yo. There was no way she’d let a stray beat her to the site.

Then she started listening.

“Out of my way, you queer! France has no need for abnormals.”

Her heart stopped as the first body fell.

“ _ Your people _ need to stop shooting us.”

Five more.

“This entire thing was your fault! If you hadn’t been dressing like  _ this _ , then nothing would have happened to you.”

Another seven.

“You were born a sex for a  _ reason _ ! You can’t fucking change because you want to. Stupid assholes.”

Thirty bodies in total.

“ _ My Lady. _ ” She turned. Chat Noir’s expression was grim, the usual mirth in his eyes gone and a slight downturn to his lips. “They’re not dead. Just... _ incapacitated _ ,” he said. It didn’t do anything to ease the vice around her lungs.

“We need to stop this.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “ _ Now _ .”

For once, he didn’t make a joke out of it. She wished he did, if only so that she could pretend that everything was okay. Ladybug threw her yo-yo and watched it hook around a terrace railing before swinging over. She could see the Patriote, grey-faced and wearing the three colors of the French flag, screaming obscenities at random passersby. Her throat still tightened every single time someone dropped on the ground, unmoving and seemingly dead. It still hurt knowing that there were people like this.

Marinette thought of Nino’s grandmother, who wore a hijab with a bright smile that crinkled the ends of her eyes and preferred Arabic over French. She thought of Alya’s mother, who had worked to get out of Martinique and made a life for herself in Paris while supporting five children alone. She thought of Adrien, how  _ he _ used to be a  _ she _ , and the tears of joy that had run down his face when his father had paid for the surgery. And kind Sabine, who faced insults from angry customers and frowns when they saw her slanted eyes.

“The Lucky Charm heals because the akumatized aren’t inherently bad people,” Tikki had said once. “They’re just making bad  _ choices _ .”

That might have been the case with teenagers in collège and a jilted cop, but this….this was  _ different _ . Here was a man angry with so many different people simply because of their existence. Ladybug frowned as she thought of what might have happened to get Hawkmoth’s attention.

“My Lady?”

She blinked.

“You alright?”

She turned to Chat Noir and smiled. Or at least, come close to a facsimile of one. He didn’t deserve the bubbling anger that was beginning to pool in her stomach. “I’m fine,  _ chaton _ . I’m guessing that the akuma is in the flag.”

“The one in his belt loop?” His voice sounded incredulous.

“ _ Exactement _ .”

Ladybug could have sworn that she heard him mutter, “Just my luck,” as he leapt towards the Patriot.

She would make things right.

* * *

 

Chat Noir could feel his heart pounding inside of his chest. This person was the antithesis of every single sneer he’d gotten once Isabelle Agreste had become Adrien. His throat was closing up, and every breath became labored. When he looked to the side, it was a sick satisfaction that gave him slight relief that Ladybug wasn’t faring much better.

_ The flag the flag the flag. I have to get the flag. _

He threw it to Ladybug and watched her snap it in half with a grim look of determination. She didn’t say anything as she threw the Lucky Charm into the air. Everyone was alright again, but that didn’t ease tightening of his airways. Their fistbump seemed falsified— _ forced _ . Maybe they were too lost in their own narratives, their own sorrows and disappointments, to make an attempt for the media.

Ladybug didn’t go over to the formerly akumatized man like she usually did. She didn’t assuage his fears that he’d ruined Paris or tell him that nothing was his fault—that it was Hawkmoth to blame. She didn’t do anything of the sort, and Chat Noir wasn’t feeling particularly altruistic at the moment either.

“Bien joué,” she mumbled, a tiny hint of a grin playing at her lips. He thought that she looked beautiful.

“Bien joué, my Lady.”

* * *

 

The first thing that Marinette did once she detransformed was hug Alya. Then Nino. She even managed to hug Adrien without freezing up. They all knew what the akuma had been saying; he hadn’t exactly been surreptitious in his claims. But just because the akuma was gone didn’t mean they felt safe. They hadn’t felt safe ever since they’d grown old enough to realize that their lives were only a matter of politics to  _ them _ , and that equality was only okay with  _ them _ if it meant that they would still end up on top.

To  _ them _ , they were on the bottom of the hierarchy on the grounds of being a different type of human being.

They sat in Marinette’s room, huddled under a blanket and “Brokeback Mountain” playing on the computer screen. An abandoned bowl of popcorn lay in the middle, still half-full. Marinette clutched her mug of Dupain-Cheng hot chocolate, shivering despite the fact that they were so close together.

“Do you guys think—” Alya’s voice cracked, and in that moment, so did Marinette’s heart. “If Ladybug hadn’t—Oh,  _ God _ , if Ladybug  _ agreed _ —”

“ _ No _ .” Adrien’s voice was rough, both with the tears that had silently run down his cheeks and with fervent defense towards the superheroine. “Ladybug would  _ never _ agree with that madman.”

“What about Chat Noir?” Marinette whispered, feeling a bit like she was betraying her partner in those four words. But even though they were best friends, she didn’t  _ know _ him. She didn’t know how he acted when he wasn’t around Ladybug. What if—?

_ No. He wouldn’t. Master Fu wouldn’t have given him the Miraculous. _

* * *

 

“Chat?”

“My Lady?”

They both looked at each other, surprised at having spoken at the exact same time. They were sitting on the top of the Eiffel Tower at midnight, and Paris was still so busy. It seemed like the lights never went off.

“Ladies first,” he said, though his heart wasn’t in the pun.

“You go,” she replied, sensing his uncomfort.

Chat Noir looked at her, green eyes more vulnerable that she’d ever seen them. “About that akuma earlier…Do you think….”

She didn’t stop the loud “No!” that fell out of her lips. Much quieter, she continued, “Do—do you?”

“Absolutely not.” He sighed and cast his eyes down towards the Parisians underneath them. “It’s just...It’s so awful that people still think this stuff, you know? Like, it’s been  _ centuries _ . Fashion changes, technology evolves—Why can’t people change too?”

Ladybug didn’t know what to say. Especially because she’d been thinking the same thing lately.

So she laid her head on his shoulder and said, “We can’t force them, but we can definitely tell them our opinions on it.”

(Spoiler alert: They did.)


End file.
